


Never going to agree

by Chelidona (Hobbity)



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Inspired by a "Die Toten Hosen" song, Love/Hate, That's all it's only a ficlet after all, they hate each other's guts, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 08:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6746512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbity/pseuds/Chelidona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was MEANT to be a fill for the SpringFRE prompt 126: “You could have saved me”, but then I listened to a song by the German Band “Die Toten Hosen.” It was one of my favourites as a teenager. “Niemals einer Meinung” (Never going to agree with each other). The lyrics of that song took over, I’m so sorry about that. It describes a very unhealthy relationship. This contains hardly any fluff at all. I couldn’t resist some mild fluff at the end. It doesn’t make their relationship any healthier, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never going to agree

Mitchell glared at the text he got.

Anders would be late. Mitchell was tempted to throw the phone on the ground.

That had been how it was since he moved in with Anders. Two months ago. They had hoped it would resolve their constant fighting. A stupid idea really.

It had deteriorated from then on. They fought about everything. Everything. The food for Anders’ stupid fish. Why the fuck he even had fish in the first place. The brand of whiskey they bought. If Mitchell said the stars looked gorgeous, Anders pointed out the moon. If Mitchell wanted a quiet night at home, Anders wanted to roam the bars all night. If Anders wanted to order Chinese, Mitchell would have a hankering for Pizza. Everything, every blessed little thing was a struggle.

This was the third night in a row he sent a text that he was late. A fucking text. When Anders was here, Mitchell wanted to be alone. But now he wanted Anders. Here and now. But the bastard was probably nailing some stupid model in the agency. Well, Mitchell would have something to say about that. Bastard. He grabbed his keys.

Despite their stormy relationship, Anders had given him a set of keys to the office.

*

When Mitchell let himself into the office, it was eerily quiet. Then he heard Anders call out “Hello” from behind the corner. As Mitchell rounded it, he found Anders alone, sitting cross-legged on the couch, his tablet in his lap. He glared at Mitchell.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

“Seeing what you’re up to.”

Anders frowned. “You thought I’d be fucking someone here, eh?”

“Pretty much.”

“Now that you can see for yourself that I’m a good boy, you can kindly bugger off again.”

Mitchell gritted his teeth.

“You’re not doing any work.”

“Bugger off.”

“Fine.” Mitchell turned round on his heels. “I’ll be at home. Give me a ring if you have trouble finding it.”

“I won’t.”

Mitchell slammed the door shut. He was nearly disappointed it didn’t break.

*

It was dark out now. On his way home, a pretty young woman approached Mitchell. She had lost the way, she explained. Mitchell hardly heard the words. His focus was on the pulse he could see in her neck. She was nervous. The vampire licked his lips. He put on his most charming smile, asked her where she needed to go and offered to walk her to the nearest bus stop.

*

Mitchell stumbled into their flat, feeling exhausted. He hadn’t killed the girl. Hopefully, she would never find out that it had been entirely pointless to walk through the schoolyard. That schoolyard where nobody would hear screams at night.

Anders cold blue eyes were on him when he entered. So, that bastard must have left the office shortly after Mitchell.

“Where have you been?”

“You told me to bugger off, remember?”

“And you said you’d go home.”

“Met a girl on the way home.”

Anders' eyes narrowed. “A girl.”

“A girl. Lost. Followed me through an empty schoolyard.”

Mitchell could practically feel Anders scrutinizing him, looking for signs of blood. He shook himself.

“I didn’t. I didn’t.”

“Mitchell …”

“You should not have kicked me out of your stupid fucking office, all right? I was out there, I was vulnerable!”

Anders smirked. That arsehole had the audacity to smirk. “You’re always so sorry for yourself. Poor me, I nearly murdered someone.”

“I am a fucking vampire, you prick.”

“So you are.”

“You could have saved me,” Mitchell spat. “You could have saved me from myself.”

Anders snarled. “Why would I save you?”

“Bastard,” Mitchell said it quietly at first, with feeling. Then, a bit louder. “You stupid fucking bastard.”

He rushed into the bedroom, threw clothes at random into a duffel bag. Anders didn’t follow him. Bastard. Mitchell made sure to slam the door on his way out.

*

As he stood in the cold Auckland rain, Mitchell had a revelation. First of all, Anders was right. He was 110. He could not demand of others to be responsible for him. Secondly, and more to the point, Anders was saving him. Anders had already saved Mitchell from himself.

He had never loved anyone like he loved Anders. He had loved, still loved, Josie and Annie. He had felt a tenderness for them. His relationship with Annie … he sighed. He had hoped the purity and love would save him. It didn’t.

Anders was different. It made Mitchell livid just to see that fucking arrogant smirk. He wanted to rip Anders apart quite literally, he wanted to tear that arrogance from his face. But he also wanted to fuck Anders senseless, he wanted to hear Anders scream and moan, make him lose his composure while he pounded into him.

Anders loved that edge. Loved knowing that any moment Mitchell could lose it and kill him. What Anders didn’t know: The very intensity of his feelings kept the vampire at bay. Mitchell had never been able to control the vampire as much as he had since he met that irritating blond bastard.

Mitchell sighed and threw his cigarette on the street. He needed Anders. No matter how much they hated each other. He didn’t know why, he couldn’t explain why, but he loved Anders with an all-consuming passion, a passion that superseded his supernatural bloodlust. He couldn’t let Anders go. He couldn’t.

*

Anders didn’t smirk when he opened the door. He looked tired, the lines in his face deep.

“I didn’t think you’d come back this time,” he admitted. It was as close to an apology as Anders would ever get. Mitchell pushed past him into the flat.

“I’ll always be back.”

Anders’s eyebrows rose. “Cocky bastard.”

“We’re never going to agree on anything.” Mitchell leant against the wall as Anders poured them two drinks. For once, he was considerate enough to pour Mitchell a glass of his favourite brand of Whiskey. Anders handed him the drink and nodded, lips tight.

“Never.”

“I want to keep going, regardless.”

Anders’ lips quivered. “That’s one thing we agree on, then.”

A declaration of love.

*

And that was that. They would never agree on anything but their desire to be in a relationship with each other. They would always have bitter fights. They would always resent each other. But this night Mitchell held Anders in his arms. And Anders didn’t complain about the tenderness of the gesture. It was as good at it would get, and Mitchell would not trade this for anything in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments?


End file.
